


The Human Experience

by filthyfuckingfiction



Series: Incubus Pete [1]
Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: Alternate Canon, Alternate Universe - Succubi & Incubi, Demon Sex, Fluff and Smut, Implied Suicide Attempt, Incubus Pete Wentz, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Multi, Polyamorous Fall Out Boy, Post-Hiatus (Fall Out Boy), Pre-Hiatus (Fall Out Boy), Recovery, Recreational Drug Use, generally really lighthearted but read the tags pls friends
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-16
Updated: 2018-11-08
Packaged: 2019-02-03 01:35:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12738357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/filthyfuckingfiction/pseuds/filthyfuckingfiction
Summary: Taking a test drive of being a person is a lot more enjoyable when you're saddled with the three sweetest humans on earth. Pete is a softie of an incubus, and his bandmates bring out the best in him.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is an AU in which no one had a band previously. In addition, none of these four knew each other previously, except maybe in passing. We can put Joe and Patrick at about nineteen at the initial start of this fic.

Although he’d never been in a band before, Joe liked to think he was up on the general etiquette. He wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to forget the awkward meeting in which said band had been established, the four of them gathered around a coffee table in an out of the way bookstore, nervously eying each other as they sat sprawled in worn-out armchairs. They hadn’t really spoken about rules, per se, but there were some common-sense ones that came to mind. _Don’t be creepy. Don’t try and upstage someone else. Don’t hit on someone your bandmate is already trying to get with. Don’t be an asshole._

While he wouldn’t really consider it creepy, as he wasn’t acting on it, he was pretty sure _don’t get a boner for your bandmates_ was another unspoken one. In his defense, he hadn’t planned on it. Granted, they were all very attractive, and Joe wasn’t blind. He'd planned on keeping his appreciation under wraps, and that had proved easy at first, but no longer.

It was only recently that that had changed. Joe found something attractive in almost everyone, but his attraction was rarely actually active unless the other person expressed interest. After Fall Out Boy had gotten popular, the four had started spending more and more time together, and…well. Once the four had gotten to know each other, they’d gotten to a certain level of comfort with each other that some would have considered suggestive. Still, there was still a line, or so Joe had thought. He'd quickly gotten borderline romantic with Andy, and he flirted with Patrick every now and then, but he hadn't really been able to tell if Pete was fair game for a while. However, it was impossible to be in a band with someone without getting a little flirty towards them, even jokingly. That had come as well, in due time.

At first, Pete had kept a friendly distance much like the rest of them. It was safe to say that none of them had really opened up for a while, as it’d taken about a year for them to really become a close-knit group. Pete especially had been kind of hot and cold where communication was concerned; he’d seemed to have had mixed feelings about it. One of them would start a conversation with him and get him engaged only to have him pull back after a while, seemingly confused. No one spoke about it, and the other three had come to the conclusion that he was a sweet guy who meant well, just was also very anxious. Once they’d hit their one-year anniversary, however, things changed. All of a sudden, Pete was much more talkative and casual than he had been, routinely flopping into one of their spaces after shows and sometimes sidling up to them. It never seemed to be directly flirty, but perhaps it held the potential to be. The other three had seen how he interacted with others, people he’d been friends with for a while- he’d wind his arms around them and stick close, as if societal boundaries for how touchy men were allowed to be didn’t exist.

Not that that was a problem, of course, and none of them had ever really given a fuck about that. It was actually quite endearing, and Joe felt pretty honored the first time his bandmate cuddled up to him, arms around his waist, starting to ramble about his day. He just thought it was a little odd.

And extremely inconvenient when one was trying not to develop a crush on Pete. That part was entirely his own problem. Little did he know, it was also everyone else's.

It was times like these that Joe could almost wrap his head around the idea of falling in love with him, objectively. Pete sat on his lap, eyes closed, resting his head back against Joe’s shoulder. Joe’s hands gently rubbed at his thighs, never going too high or touching for too long, just providing a little bit of affection. He didn’t want to mess up, even if he wasn’t entirely sure what they were doing to begin with. Pete had climbed up onto him without prompting, settling down and yawning as he curled against him, hands absently tangling in the hem of Joe’s shirt. Upon hearing the third yawn, Joe laughed quietly.

“Sleepy, Pete?” That was another thing about Pete on a long list of Things About Pete, a list that Joe didn’t even realize he was consciously keeping- a list shared by Patrick and Andy, as well. The bassist was a practical whirlwind during shows, and he rarely brought anything less than full energy to the stage. After the show was over was another story entirely. It was like leaving the stage tripped a switch that sapped him of all that energy, because he didn’t just go from energetic to a normal level of post-show exhausted, he almost stopped functioning altogether. Andy had hypothesized once or twice that maybe the bassist had a sleep disorder, but had been too polite to bring it up to him. The familiar rumble started from the front of the van, signifying that the vehicle had parked and was powering down. Joe didn’t let himself dream of the possibility that they might get big enough to warrant a tour bus, except for in quiet moments when his heart thrummed from the energy of the stage, and then maybe…maybe he let it cross his mind. It was a nice thought, at least.

“…yeah.” The reply came barely audibly, Pete reaching up and tiredly rubbing at his eyes. He glanced down at Joe’s hands, expression softening as he watched them flit across his thighs. The bassist moved a hand down, setting it atop one of Joe’s. “Sorry I’m not the most fun right now, I just…” He couldn’t finish his sentence, his tired brain just making the words lapse off into silence. Joe just nodded, resting his head on Pete’s shoulder as the other shifted.

“It’s alright. You look kinda dead, I’d be an asshole if I held it against you. How did you manage to still stay and talk to those fans?” Pete laughed softly.

“Still wanna be social. Even if I do get real tired.” Joe shook his head, a little awed.

“I’m almost jealous. You get like the Energizer bunny, and you don’t have trouble winding down from it. I get excited about something and I feel weird for hours.” His bandmate had since closed his eyes again, curling his legs up a little more.

“Can help you work off some of that energy sometime if you want.” He didn’t open his eyes, but wiggled his eyebrows, as was any person’s duty to do upon making a statement like that. Joe was unsurprised. Though he might have found how Pete interacted with them physically to be a little confusing, they’d all seen him flirt in bars and at the outskirts of crowds. Being a bit of a playboy seemed to come naturally, even if he was joking at the moment.

“Tempting, but I’m gonna have to say no. Mostly because you look dead on your feet. C’mon.” Joe shifted, trying to dislodge the other from his lap. Pete whined softly, grumbling under his breath. Ultimately, though, he complied.

“You’re fucking mean.” It was halfhearted, though, and he managed a sleepy little smile in Joe’s direction. Joe tousled his hair.

“I know. Wanting you not to pass out is a sin.” He paused, then. “Did you actually want someone to nap with? Because I’m kind of sweaty and gross, but I can get Patrick, if you want.” Pete thought about it for a moment before reluctantly shaking his head.

“I’m fine. You all stay upright after shows like normal human beings. Plus, I cling.” He flopped back into his pile of pillows, turning on the shitty battery-powered fan he’d duct-taped to the wall. It was secured with at least ten layers of tape, mostly staying in place due to having been looped multiple times around the busted door handle.  It about blasted in his face, but he seemed completely content as he lay down to nap. “Wake me up if any of you need anything, okay?” Joe patted his shoulder as a response, wandering off and grabbing his wallet in order to check into the motel and take a shower. Once he’d gotten a room key, he made a beeline for it, not getting out until the heat had stripped the sweat and grime from his skin at least three times over.

When he got out of the shower, Patrick and Andy had come in as well. Leftovers from a shitty local pizza joint they’d dropped off at the night before littered the desk, Andy glancing up as he munched on a slightly stale crust. He'd just been eating their discarded ones, poor thing. “We saved you some.” he greeted, eyes moving to the newspaper wedged underneath the box they were using as a plate. “Spleen.”

“ ‘Scuse me?” Joe grabbed a piece of pizza nonetheless, hardly even tasting it as he ripped off a bite of cheese and almost nothing else. Patrick scribbled down something behind the box. Upon further examination, the two appeared to be working on a crossword in an incredibly domestic display.

“A body part almost never brought up in conversation, six across. Spleen.” Patrick’s lips curved up when he made eye contact with Joe, laughing at himself. “I guess it’s true what they say about all the action and babes being a rock star gets you, huh? This is wild.” Joe snorted and deposited himself next to them, crossing his legs.

“Boring is good sometimes. Where’s Pete?” Andy jerked a thumb towards the door.

“Out. He woke up from his nap and helped us bring the important stuff in before taking off.” It wasn’t that Andy was being cagey, Joe knew. None of them really knew what Pete went off to do, honestly. The logical assumption was sex, as there were few other reasons for their bandmate to head off so routinely, but that was still just a guess. Joe chewed the crust and nodded, setting aside a slice for him. Patrick spoke up after a second.

“I’m kinda jealous of his…you know. How he can pull so easily and all. I feel like I still look like the new guy.” Andy gently nudged his side.

“You don’t. We all look kind of rough around the edges, but you look good.” Done with his crust, he rested back against the headboard, wiping off his fingers on a scrunched-up napkin. Joe couldn’t help but be kind of amused, even as he reached out and patted Patrick’s knee.

“You’re alright. He’s just really horny all the time, probably.”

“We think. He could be selling drugs or something to help us pay for gas.” Patrick pointed out. He then paused, shrugging after further thought. “That came out a lot more wholesome than I meant it to. If that’s what he’s doing, that’s adorable.” Joe reached off the side of the bed and rifled through his duffel bag, grabbing a small fabric sack out of it.

“Speaking of drugs.” He eyed the smoke detector on the ceiling before opening the sack and tugging out his pipe, starting to pack a bowl. Patrick, ever the bad habit wingman, held the container of weed for him so it didn’t spill. Andy didn’t mind, just studying the scene in very abstract interest for a moment before going back to resting. He might not have done it himself, but he didn’t care about it being done in front of him. As usual, Joe offered the pipe to Patrick after taking the first hit, exhaling in the direction of the wall. Patrick hesitated, then shook his head.

“One day. Sorry, I’m sure I probably come off as a huge prude.” Joe shrugged, leaning back next to Andy, happy when Patrick moved back to join them as well. After a moment of only slight awkwardness, the trio found themselves sort of wrapped up in each other's arms. Andy's eyes briefly lingered on Joe's lips. He really wanted to kiss him, but that would have required getting smoke in his mouth, though that was hardly the biggest issue. He focused back in when Joe spoke. 

“You don’t have to feel bad for not wanting it, man. I just figure I’ll ask in case you ever do.” Patrick blew him a little kiss, which made Joe smile. What a strange little family unit they’d found themselves in. They lay like that for a while in companionable silence, Joe occasionally exhaling little plumes of smoke towards the ceiling. The silence was only interrupted when the door creaked open, Pete stepping in. Andy offered a lazy wave, half asleep by then. Patrick scooted over to make room without needing to be asked. There was another bed and a flimsy foldout couch that could have been utilized as well, but they weren’t actually going to bed for the moment. Pete clambered onto the bed, stretching out. Patrick opened one eye.

“I don’t wanna make you get back up, man, but we saved you some pizza. It’s in the fridge.” Pete shook his head.

“Not hungry right now, but thank you. You’re the best. I should get back up anyway, though.”

“Don’t leave us so soon.” Andy commented, opening one eye just a little bit. Pete shook his head. He rolled over onto his stomach, stretching like a cat and then going over to the closet.

“Don’t wanna, but it’s my turn to take the couch, and I’m an honest guy. Kinda.” Watching the other fluff the pillows he yanked out of the closet made Joe’s eyes grow heavier. He set his pipe to the side for the moment, letting his chin rest on his hands as he let his eyes close. Pete hummed as he made up the couch, not doing any more complaining about the less than ideal bed than any of them did on their respective turns. When he turned around, all three of his friends were fast asleep.

…And he’d thought he was tired. He smiled as he slowly walked over to them, said smile widening fondly as Patrick threw an arm around Andy in his sleep. Three to a bed would be uncomfortable for them when they woke up, because that seemed to brew sore muscles in the morning. Still, he didn’t have the heart to wake them. Instead, he just tucked them in, amusing himself with how domestic he was. He was fitting right in.

His eyes grew dark and possessive as his gaze flitted over his friends, though he didn’t realize it. It was the most innocent kind of possessive, too, at least for the moment; had Pete identified it, he would have been enamored at the gentle jump in his pulse and the slightly shaky happiness in his chest. He picked up Joe’s lighter, debating finishing the bowl before just scraping the ashes off into the trash can. With that, he retired to the couch, turning the light off. Between the events of the day and the fact that he was still coming down from an orgasm, he relished finally being able to rest.

Drifting in the area between sleep and being truly awake, Joe saw the image of Pete float across his vision. Pete’s eyes were dark, almost bottomless, and dream Pete looked serene as he turned and padded out of view. Joe was back to being completely asleep within a few seconds.

Joe's awakening had not escaped Pete's notice. The latter stayed sitting up for a while longer, black eyes locked on the bed, before the tension fell from his shoulders upon being reassured that they were all okay. He had nothing to worry about. Maybe he was being naive by thinking things were going to stay this good, but he sure hoped so.

He closed his eyes, letting himself purr very softly as he curled around the couch cushion. Pete fell asleep soon enough, thoughts drifting off into oblivion. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for this chapter being a little later than i promised, everyone. i had a death in the family and have been kinda down.
> 
> @ the person whose birthday was this weekend and was looking forward to it: i hope you like this chapter anyway, and i hope you had a good birthday! <3

"Pete, I fucking swear, if you're up here to ask if we're there yet again, I'll strangle you myself." Joe spoke without looking up from the windshield. This was about Pete's dozenth trip up to the front of the van. The ability to whine truly transcended species, and it did not help that Pete was a particularly pouty demon. Pete made a grumpy noise and flopped down on Andy's lap, the drummer just shifting in the passenger's seat to stretch out his legs before adjusting Pete accordingly, completely unfazed. 

"Would I complain like that?" Never mind that he was  _currently_ complaining like that, emitting a soft, nonstop whine under his breath. Andy, whose patience level practically guaranteed him sainthood on any given day, rubbed his back gently. It functioned as a sweet gesture, though the main motivation was that he knew physical affection got Pete to shut up. Sure enough, the noise that had been on the verge of violating the Geneva Convention ceased after a second or two. Joe snorted.

"We're not there yet. I think like half an hour more? Had to take another exit to avoid the fucking potholes. I know I would have never heard the end of it if you got a bruise on your bony ass." Pete opened his mouth to protest and then realized that he really couldn't. Even if the bruise had been tiny, he'd have made a production out of it for comedic effect. (More than likely, a joke about Joe needing to kiss it better would have been made. A big part of Pete would not have been joking.) The incubus closed his mouth for a second, eventually just settling on muttering. 

"...'trick was whining too." 

"Shh." Andy scolded with a smirk, poking Pete's hips. "We know. We've actually been debating if we can operate as a two-man band. I think Joe started thinking about crashing the car after hour two of license plate games." 

"You and Patrick are babies." Joe agreed solemnly. His words were gentle for his standards, though. The four showed boredom in different ways- Joe was just very, very tired. He gave the bassist a tiny smile, glancing back to the windshield after a moment. "Half hour. I promise. Go tell Patrick." Pete nodded, reluctantly sliding off of Andy's lap. 

"Okay. We'll make you some coffee when we get there." The gesture meant little, as it'd just be the shitty bitter kind provided in hotel rooms that anyone could make with the provided pot, but the thought was sweet. They'd overslept that morning, and Joe had been nice enough to offer to drive despite being just as groggy as the other three. Andy grinned.

"Not if I make it first. Gonna start a passive aggressive coffee fight for Joe's love and affection." he teased. Joe blew him a kiss. 

"You know I don't choose between my babies like that." he cooed. Andy snorted and shook his head. Pete snickered, amused at the exchange, making his way to the back of the van. Patrick was still resting on a stack of their hoodies. When he saw Pete, he immediately patted the spot next to him, moving over. Pete sat down and flopped against him, glancing up at his friend.

"Joe says thirty more minutes. And also that we're babies." Patrick grunted, but seemed less desolate than before.

"Yeah, well, he's got it easy driving. The rest of us just gotta be bored." he said with a shrug.

"I don't wanna give pity to someone who called us babies, but I'd guess he's actually more bored. We don't have to focus on the road, just get to cuddle and complain." Pete was given a very serious look in response. 

"You're right, you shouldn't pity him. I'm kicking you off of Stump Island." 

"What? No. Let me back on the island, I'm your best friend." Pete shoved his chest. Patrick shook his head stubbornly, turning his face away and nudging Pete off of the pile of hoodies. Pete's eyes lit up, and he turned towards the front, calling out. "Joe, Patrick's whining again!"

"Shut up, Patrick. Pete, don't be a snitch." Joe called back with a chuckle, reluctantly amused. Pete let out a triumphant cackle, sprawling out over Patrick's lap, eyes sparkling even as Patrick hit his stomach in retaliation. 

"Yeah, Pete, don't be a snitch." It was said while still smacking Pete's stomach, the slaps very halfhearted. Pete just gave him a sharp, lopsided smile, catching his hand.

"You're fucking adorable, 'Trick." Patrick blinked, taken off guard.

"I- what? Don't do that, I'm trying to be mad at you." The sentence was immediately taken as a challenge, and Pete sat up, kissing all over his wrist. He narrowed his eyes at him, taking a second to gauge Patrick's comfort level before breaking into a grin.

"Nope. Kisses oughta shut you up." He leaned up, pretty much attacking Patrick's cheeks and jaw with little kisses. His guess that it was okay had been right, for Patrick tensed for not even a second before breaking into laughter, squirming as Pete insistently peppered his face with them. The demon felt his heart jump at the sound, just pressing closer and increasing the number of kisses, watching as his friend beamed and pushed at Pete's sides.

"Stop, stop- I'm trying to be mad!"

"None of that shit. Just kisses." Patrick relented and just held Pete, laughter slowly trickling off when the other finally stopped his onslaught of affection. His pride told him he should be pouting about it, but the warm appreciation he felt had outweighed his previous boredom. At the very least, he could thank Pete for that. Patrick pressed a kiss to his forehead, lips twitching up when Pete nearly swooned. 

"Pete, you're so easy to please." Still, he couldn't bring himself to make fun of him. Pete just let out a quiet, happy noise before curling up in Patrick's arms, closing his eyes. After a moment, Patrick closed his eyes too. 

"...yeah. You like it, though." The words were barely a whisper. Any kind of touch really was almost a sedative to him. Patrick opened one eye, a soft expression on his face, starting to play with his friend's hair. Without realizing it, Pete started to purr softly. Patrick didn't realize for a few minutes, before laughing quietly, pushing Pete's hair away from his forehead, running his fingers through it. 

"What are you doing?" he asked with a confused smile. Pete had to take a second before opening his eyes, as they'd gone entirely black. He only dared to do so when they felt like they were back to normal. Luckily, he was right.

"Tryin' to clear my throat." He had stopped as soon as Patrick had realized he was making a noise. Humans didn't purr... right? He didn't know, having only met a small portion of the human population. Still, he felt like that was a fair guess. The van stopped as they spoke, and Andy let out a long, relieved groan from the front seat. 

"Alright, we're here! Get your shit, we're getting out." Pete and Patrick had both snapped to attention as soon as the van was parked, looking at each other before scrambling to grab their things. Patrick was out of the vehicle first, swinging his backpack over his shoulders, groaning as well when his feet touched the pavement. 

"Oh my god, I'm gonna have pins and needles for days." Joe locked up the van once everyone was out, offering a very tired grin. 

"Just think, boys. When we make it big, someone else can drive the damn bus." Andy wandered off towards the front of the motel, coming back after a moment with their keys. Pete unlocked the door, air leaving him in a delighted sigh when he saw the two beds. (They never needed two beds, really. What usually ended up happening was that three people would unintentionally pass out in the same bed, the fourth person taking the couch. Pete had always wondered why they didn't just get a king sized bed, but had so far been too nervous to suggest it.) 

Now, though, the suggestion seemed like it might be a good idea. Pete glanced back at his friends, shrugging. "Why don't we just push 'em together and cuddle?" Joe paused, then nodded.

"Yeah. That actually sounds really nice." Patrick took the cue and pushed both beds together, forming a very messy king bed. Joe immediately clambered onto it, flopping down on his face. Patrick moved up beside him, Andy and Pete following suit. Patrick leaned over and pecked Joe on the cheek, very soft.

"Thanks for driving, Joe. I'll take it next time." Joe responded by punching him in the side.

"You're a baby, Patrick. You can't drive that far." Patrick made a noise, sticking out his tongue at him.

"We're the same fucking age!" Andy was laughing quietly, shaking his head as he stared up at the ceiling. Meanwhile, Pete had broken out their setlist notebook and was going over it, listing out the edits they had penciled in. They had been rotating songs from the EPs and Take This to Your Grave, but the demos from their new album had gone over pretty well at the last gig. After a second of hesitation, Pete wrote in a few in the middle of the list, showing it to Andy for approval. Andy nodded, stretching out. 

"I think we should... go on a retreat or something. Get some good lyrics down." Patrick snorted.

"I'm definitely on board with that, but with what money?" Pete leaned over and smacked his thigh, grumbling.

"I keep telling you guys, we're gonna get famous." he insisted. Joe looked over at him, raising an eyebrow.

"You seem real sure about that. You're a man of many talents. Hope being clairvoyant is one of them." The words were more accurate than Joe knew. Pete had to resist the urge to smirk at him. He instead leaned over and bit his shoulder, prodding him repeatedly.

"It is, so shut up. I know we're gonna be great." It was true to a degree. He had the ability to get a general sense of their future, and it felt good. He didn't know what it'd entail, and being famous with them was sort of a pipe dream, but he wanted it badly. He wanted to make something of himself that his humans would be proud of, too. Patrick smiled faintly, scooting closer after a moment. 

"That's kinda cute, actually. I'm still clingy from the van, cuddle me." Pete was only too happy to oblige. He slid back against Patrick's chest, closing his eyes and sighing happily as his friend wrapped his arms around Pete's waist. Andy let out a quiet 'aw', and Joe turned his head to watch them. Patrick just hummed serenely and folded his legs up against Pete's ass, curling around him. The room fell silent, and the four all collectively relaxed. Taking a nap a few hours before a gig might not have been the wisest decision, but car rides were exhausting, especially four hour ones. Joe eventually pressed more actively into his friends as well, sort of nestled against Andy's back. 

"...heard you two bein' gay in the back. Had an effect on me, I guess." Joe mumbled. Pete snickered.

"In case you've forgotten, you're also not straight." Joe nodded solemnly and rested his chin on Pete's head, nosing into him.

"I didn't forget. But you guys being around makes me feel almost straight in comparison." Andy turned to give him a disparaging look, amused. 

"You're repressing yourself, you know. You could get held too if you weren't so stubborn." 

"Joe's a huge gay." Pete sang, ignoring Joe's grumble from above him. It wasn't really one of protest, because he couldn't argue. Still, he felt the need to at least pretend to put up a fight.

"Huge bi, first of all. Second of all, shut up and hug Patrick, I'm tired." Pete whined, scooting against Joe's chest, holding Patrick's hands so that his friend came with him. 

"Shut up and hug me too then, I'm sleepy too." Joe tried not to smile and failed, loosely holding Pete's hips as Andy hugged him from behind. He headbutted Pete in the forehead, shaking his head in mock scorn. 

"Pete, you're annoying." Pete just tucked his head into Joe's chest, snuggling him like his life depended on it. Mouthy as he was, he couldn't help but mutter back.

" _You're_ annoying." 

"Yeah, yeah. Be nice and lemme sleep. Annoying." It was punctuated with a kiss to his forehead. Pete made a noise, but obeyed for the moment. It was only until Joe was drifting off that he piped up again. 

"Okay, but you're still more annoying-"

Joe reached up without even a bit of pause and yanked on Pete's hair, very hard. A loud moan left Pete's lips before he could stop himself, and he cupped a hand over his mouth, eyes going wide. Behind him, Patrick had frozen, arms tightening around his waist. Joe looked a little stunned, clearing his throat shakily. 

"Uh... shit, um, I'm sorry-"

"I'm gonna go take a shower." Pete said quickly, disengaging himself from the cuddle pile and sliding off the bed, quickly closing himself in the bathroom. A second later, the water started up. The three other band members looked at each other, Patrick with a faint flush on his face, Andy and Joe just looking stunned. Patrick was finally the one to break the silence.

"Uh, I'm gonna... Yeah, I think I forgot something in the van." he mumbled, sliding off the bed as well, grabbing his keys. Joe and Andy were polite enough to pretend that their friend didn't have a boner, Andy just nodding weakly as Patrick slipped out. He then turned his eyes to Joe, giving him a searching look. 

"Did you know that was gonna...?"

"Had a hunch." Joe admitted, looking embarrassed. "Didn't think it would actually do anything, though." Andy rolled his eyes, acting as if he himself hadn't also been totally into it, grabbing Joe's jaw.

"You jerk." he muttered, kissing him hard on the lips. Joe made a noise, but kissed him back only after a moment, wrapping his arms around his neck and pulling him close.

In the shower, Pete let out a shaky breath, running his hands through his hair. His eyes scanned the door, and he swore under his breath.

Being around his four favorite people all the time was getting to be hard. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fun fact: the author is one of those weird humans who actually can purr. checkmate, pete


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took long enough, huh? Sorry about that! <3

Patrick had always had a habit of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. He didn’t _try_ to wander into trouble, it just sort of found him. Before he’d been in the band, the curse had mainly led him to conflict with young men a lot tougher than he was. Now that he was a musician, the scene he was currently in wasn’t so rough, which meant that he tended to receive far fewer black eyes.

Now he had a new problem, and that problem was that musicians were dreadfully horny things.

It seemed that the likelihood of him walking in on someone increased exponentially the longer they were on the road. Patrick didn’t know what kind of curse he was under, but it was nearly constant that he walked into a room to find it already inhabited by two people going at it. It’d gotten to the point where he’d walked around Warped Tour with his hand over his eyes if he was going backstage.

He’d consulted Gerard about it over plastic cups of shitty beer. They’d been at the same party, and most of the bands attending had decided to visit the same club afterwards. Patrick had struck up a conversation with him at the smoky, dimly lit bar, climbing up onto the stool across from him and watching as Gerard quickly tried to pretend he didn’t have his hand down Frank’s pants. Frank had given Patrick a shameless, lopsided grin, sitting back and lighting a cigarette even under the evil eye of the bartender.

“Do you have the vocalist curse too?” Patrick had piped up nervously, taking a sip of beer and glancing to Gerard a bit hopelessly. He supposed he’d technically just walked in on Gerard too, for fuck’s sake, but there was a difference between Gerard groping his best friend in a public bar and Patrick walking into a closed room. He’d tried not to follow the path of Gerard’s hand too much as he spoke. Gerard raised an eyebrow, pushing his hair out of his eyes and giving him a lost look over his beer.

“The- curse? Like being hoarse, or…?”

“No, like- I keep walking in on people having sex.” Patrick said after a long pause. Gerard looked at him and then started laughing, shaking his head.

“That’s not a vocalist curse, Patrick. I think you’ve just got shit luck.” Patrick had felt very silly after that.

Normally, the whole thing would have still been annoying, but he could have ignored it. However, it seemed that his luck was even worse than it’d appeared on the surface. What he’d failed to mention to Gerard was that his luck was so bad that, probably about seventy percent of the time, it was _Pete_ he walked in on. It seemed their original hypothesis that he'd been sneaking away for sexual reasons had been right.

(Come to think, it’d only ever been two constants. One of the parties he walked in on was always either his bassist or a shorter girl with black hair and dark eyes. He didn’t know who she was, but he wished she’d pick a better time to get laid.)

Not to say that he didn’t wish Pete didn’t pick a better time too, he just… had a more complicated relationship with his bassist’s involvement. While the reasonable side of himself was always mortified and practically tripped out of the room, or the hallway, or the bathroom of a club… one got the point, the less sensible part that controlled his arousal didn’t get the memo. Patrick was a little ball of hormones as it was; as he’d been sort of a late bloomer, his sexual urges were still sort of riding the high that came with that. Whether or not he'd admit it, he'd always found Pete extremely attractive.

That, and it was extremely hard to bring logic into it when he was walking in on Pete getting fucked hard against walls, or opening doors to see him with his head buried between someone’s legs, or _literally fucking bending himself over a sink with his fingers inside himself_. That one had really gotten to him. Patrick only had so much willpower, and it was quickly dissolving.

They never talked about it. Patrick was running out of room on his hands to check off how many times he’d walked in on Pete, but he’d never said a word afterwards. Likewise, Pete never said anything either. He didn’t really have to, though. Patrick noticed the intense, curious look Pete liked to give him after the fact, a sort of dark amusement contained in his stare. It made him squirm, though he didn’t think Pete was aware that he’d caught the looks.

And they were such strangely _smug_ looks, too, all half-lidded and sultry and taunting all at the same time. Part of Patrick wasn’t sure that Pete knew his face could even make those expressions, but another, wiser part of himself knew better. Because Pete had never asked his partners to stop when they suddenly had Patrick as an audience, no. Instead, he’d made eye contact and moaned and grabbed at whatever he was getting fucked against. Patrick was pretty sure he’d never lose the memory of how fucking shameless Pete looked like that.

Pete had such a pretty mouth. The last time he’d walked in on him, which had been about three days ago at that point, Patrick had been treated to a view of three of Pete’s partner’s fingers shoved past his lips, the bassist moaning out around them. Patrick had almost fallen in his haste to leave the room that time around, because he had more than a slight oral fixation and could swear that he’d almost cum on the spot.

He attempted to bring it up as subtly as possible before the show, sitting in the back with his friends while he did vocal warmups. Andy and Joe were leaning against each other, Joe passively tracing Andy’s tattoos and blowing loud bubbles with his gum. Pete- the only guilty party, really- was flipping through a worn copy of a comic book. Patrick avoided making eye contact with him specifically as he spoke. “Um, so can we try to lock doors if any of us decide to fuck backstage?” Joe snorted, glancing up and blowing a bubble in his general direction.

“You can say Pete, it’s okay.” Patrick made a noise, a little embarrassed. Though it’d been fairly obvious who he’d meant, as none of the rest of them were in the habit of having that much sex, he had still wanted to try to be discreet.

“Well, I… Okay, yeah, fine. Specifically Pete, then. Could you try to keep that in mind, man?” Pete glanced up from the comic book, eyes briefly looking much darker than usual. Patrick was sure it was a trick of the light. The light, too, must have been the reason for the little smirk he thought he saw for a moment.

“Sure thing, ‘Trick.”

But it hadn’t turned out to be that simple. Of fucking _course_ it hadn’t, because he just couldn’t catch a break, apparently. Patrick spent a little while after the show by the side door, signing ticket stubs and the brims of hats. Even outside the venue, the air was still muggy and thick. It was uncomfortable, to say the least. Joe had already ducked off with a brief apology, pulling his shirt away from his stomach and fanning himself with it, mumbling that he was going to get some water. Patrick held out as long as he could, but was eventually defeated by the heat. He excused himself as gracefully as possible, not particularly wanting to be photographed with sweat stains on his shirt. Andy assured him that he would brave the crowds in his absence, although he did seem less confident without Joe by his side.  

Patrick wandered back behind the stage, starting down the long hallway. The blast of air conditioning was a relief, the whoosh barely registering past his earplugs. He squinted at the doors, looking for the right one. He eventually found the door with their band’s name taped to it and let himself in, humming quietly to himself as he walked into the lounge. A bathroom and their dressing room lay through doors to the right, but most of the space was taken up by long couches and a coffee table. One of Pete’s notebooks lay abandoned on said table, and Andy’s jacket was haphazardly draped over the arm of a couch. Patrick stretched, briefly leaning against the wall. He allowed himself a brief break before looking down at his sweaty t-shirt, grimacing at the sight. Shows weren’t really shows unless you felt a little gross at the end. Patrick made a noise of discomfort, opening the side door to the dressing room and walking in.

The dressing room was fairly standard, clean and big enough for a larger band than themselves. Joe’s hoodie was still slung over one of the chairs, and Pete’s leather jacket lay discarded on the floor.

So, in fact, did the rest of his clothes.

Had Patrick taken out his earplugs in the lounge, he would have heard his bassist’s noises of pleasure. Pete was never quiet, even in the van when he thought he was being sneaky. As it was, being in the same room with him meant that he could now hear him pretty clearly, even if it was a bit muffled. Patrick froze in the doorway, door still hanging open behind him. He wasn’t entirely sure who the guy bending Pete over the vanity stool was- he thought he’d seen him in the crowd during the show-, but his attention wasn’t exactly on him. His eyes had immediately locked on his bandmate, heat rising to his cheeks, mouth hanging open. Pete was gripping the stool so hard that his knuckles were white. He lifted his eyes to meet Patrick’s, grinning cheekily as if he wasn’t actively getting fucked. Whoever his partner was froze when he saw Patrick, relinquishing his tight grasp on Pete’s hips, but Pete managed a breathy little laugh.

“No. Keep goin’. Patrick’s a gentleman, he’s not gonna mind ducking out. Right, ‘Trick?” The words themselves did sound like a dismissal, but Pete’s tone was inviting and contradictory, absolutely filthy despite being muffled. His eyes were still locked on Patrick’s face, the smirk on his lips widening as he stared at him. When his partner didn’t move quickly enough for him, Pete started moving back against him, pushing his hips back eagerly. Patrick snapped out of it a second later, stumbling back a few steps, stammering clumsily as he grabbed at the door.

“S-sorry. Sorry. I’ll- yeah.” He practically tripped over his own feet, retreating quickly, slamming the door behind him. Patrick stared at the couch, wandering over to it as if in a trance, numbly sitting down at one end.

His jeans were very tight all of a sudden. Patrick swore under his breath, timidly reaching up and easing one earplug out. Just as an experiment. He was immediately treated to an obscene moan, and oh, Pete really _was_ loud. “Holy shit.” Patrick mumbled, quickly putting the earplug back in. He dropped his face into his hands, wincing in discomfort as he tried to get comfortable on the couch with an erection. It wasn’t happening. He hated himself for it, but his eyes kept wandering back to the closed door, imagination filling in the blanks on what he was missing.

…Fuck it. Fuck it, if Pete was going to leave doors open and tease Patrick about his own inability to go _five fucking minutes_ without getting laid, then… He tugged his zipper down and pushed his jeans down his thighs before he could talk himself out of it. Patrick eyed the door as he wrapped a hand around his cock, letting out a shaky breath. They’d had quite a crowd. He had at least ten minutes before Andy came back, and living in a van with three other guys meant that he was pretty skilled at rushing. He paused for a second, hands stopping halfway to his ears. It almost felt like taking the earplugs out was cheating somehow, like doing so would make the whole thing bad.

Remembering the way Pete had looked at him a moment ago had him shaking his head and practically yanking the earplugs out of his ears, tucking them into their case in his pocket. If that expression hadn’t been some kind of invitation, he didn’t know what the fuck _was_. Patrick moved his hand back down, biting his lip as he touched himself. Pete might have been shameless about his volume, but the idea of getting caught jerking off to Pete being fucked embarrassed Patrick, albeit in a way he wasn’t sure that he minded. Rather than think about it, he just closed his eyes and drank in the noises coming from the dressing room, letting himself fantasize. Was Pete that desperate with everyone? God, he could just picture it, taunting Pete in the back of the van until he was letting himself get fucked right next to Andy and Joe. Patrick groaned softly, breath coming hard. It didn’t help that the other two were so fucking pretty, either-

“Huh. ‘M sorry, am I interrupting something?” Patrick’s head snapped up. Joe was standing a few feet away from the couch, leaning on the wall beside the dressing room door. His eyes were on Patrick, a strange little smirk on his face, clearly having gotten an eyeful already. Patrick turned an impressive shade of pink, yanking the waistband of his jeans up over his dick.

 _“Dude!_ “ Joe raised an eyebrow, steepling his hands over his stomach, completely unfazed.

“What? I knocked. No one answered, and I didn’t hear _that_ until I was already here.“ He jerked a thumb at the dressing room. Fuck. Patrick glanced at the main door, squirming in place on the couch. Joe probably had knocked, but it wasn’t like he could hear much over Pete and his partner’s racket. Joe crossed his arms, appearing almost casual as he addressed him. The smirk hadn’t gone away. Patrick stammered again, at first just coming out with incoherent noises before finally getting ahold of himself.

“Shit. Y-yeah. Sorry. Didn’t hear ‘cuz-“ He figured he didn’t really have to finish the sentence. Joe’s wry chuckle confirmed that no, he did not. The guitarist didn’t seem to be in any hurry to move. “Um, did you forget I kind of have my hand on my dick right now?” Patrick managed to get out, voice very small. A closer look at Joe revealed that he was quite obviously tuned into what was going on behind the door. Patrick resisted the urge to sneak a glance at the front of his jeans, though there was no fucking way Joe wasn’t hard if the expression he wore was any indication. Joe glanced up and shrugged.

“Not really, no. You look good like that.”

“I- thanks, um…“ Patrick felt his cock twitch at the words. Joe had this weird little purr to his voice, and he only had so much resolve. He couldn’t help himself then, gaze darting down to Joe’s crotch. Oh. Yeah, he was definitely hard. The singer sat up straight, avoiding eye contact with Joe, flush getting worse. “That’s nice. Could you get the fuck out now?”

“Why is your hand still on your dick?” Joe retorted with a grin. It was true. Though he’d covered himself with his jeans, Patrick’s hand hadn’t moved. Joe closed his eyes, smoothing a hand over his own face. The calming gesture made him look serene, like some sort of angel with a hard-on. “Wanna listen.” Patrick exhaled slowly, responding via a weak nod. He told himself the easy explanation, that he was just tired of darting out of rooms. In reality, the almost hungry look Joe had been giving him was enough to let him stay. Patrick didn’t dare to move. Without opening his eyes, Joe piped up again. “You can keep going if you want.” It came off as less of a statement and more of an active suggestion, and there was the same sort of lilt to Joe’s voice. Patrick swallowed.

“…Are you flirting with me?” Joe opened his eyes lazily, turning the same smug grin on him.

“Maybe. Maybe not. You figure it out.” That was all Patrick got. He groaned softly, closing his eyes, the hand down his pants twitching instinctively. It was easier not to look at him. He didn’t know if Joe had closed his eyes again or not, for he kept his own closed as he slowly began touching himself again. He was too nervous to take his jeans off, despite it being a little uncomfortable. Patrick heard another dark chuckle, but that was all.

He planned to ignore Joe, but his imagination had other problems. His presence meant that he was quickly incorporated into Patrick’s van fantasy, the image of Joe with his mouth on Patrick’s neck incredibly vivid. Patrick almost whimpered, working his hand a little faster as he humored the thought. Fuck, it would be so good too. Both of them would be able to lavish attention on Pete. Maybe… maybe in this hypothetical fantasy world, he could even convince Joe to give him a kiss. A gasp passed his lips. The transition was smooth, and Patrick didn’t really register when he went from nervously palming himself to full-out jerking off, tipping his head back against the couch. He tried to keep himself quiet, but the image of Joe’s mouth on his cock flashed through his head. Patrick broke his silence with a soft, desperate moan. He didn’t see it, but Joe’s eyes hadn’t left him the whole time, and a shudder went through the other man upon hearing it.

Pete and his partner sounded like they were finishing up. In comparison to Pete, the latter’s volume was tame, an occasional swear coming up from a wall of labored breathing. Patrick was very glad that he’d taken the earplugs out, because now he got to hear Pete come undone. His hand quickened again as Pete cried out, words still slightly muffled by the door. “Oh- fuck, yeah, right there, babe-“

Patrick’s orgasm hit him without him really expecting it. The singer tensed up, thighs shaking as he came into his own fist. Joe moved forward as soon as he saw a shudder go through him. He ended up kissing Patrick as he came, firmly grabbing his jaw with one hand. Patrick’s breath left him. Part of him panicked. The other part of him, near delirious from the orgasm, didn’t argue. He kissed Joe back with only a slight pause, feeling a wave of embarrassment go through him when he actually fucking moaned against his lips. Joe eventually drew back, lightly petting Patrick’s thighs as if there wasn’t only light fabric separating his hand and the fact that Patrick had just cum in his jeans. He offered Patrick an easy grin. For a moment, there was nothing but the sounds coming through the wall and Patrick’s own soft panting, and then he focused back in. Patrick’s gaze went from Joe’s eyes to his lips, then dropping down to his crotch in the least subtle way possible.

“Aren’t you gonna get off?” he asked after a second, looking up at him. Joe took in the sight of a wrecked Patrick, all flushed cheeks and parted lips, and broke into a genuine smile. He reached out, tousling his hair before stepping back, grabbing Andy’s jacket. Joe tied it around his waist, obscuring his erection for the most part. He started towards the door, pausing and leaning in the doorway for a moment, glancing back at him.

“Nah. I’m not a slut- don’t touch myself in front of my bandmates, you know?” His eyes sparkled as he said it, clearly teasing, and the wicked smirk from before played at his lips. Patrick’s cheeks suddenly got much more flushed. The words should have been degrading, but Joe managed to make them incredibly hot. Joe offered a little wave and a wink before slipping out the door. Patrick stared after him in disbelief, heart beating very fast. After a moment, he slumped back against the couch, eyes dropping closed as he caught his breath.  His head was spinning.

Well. That was… something else to worry about, he supposed, or yet another thing to not mention. Which would be hard, because he really fucking wanted to head after Joe and demand he let Patrick suck him off or _something._ Patrick rubbed his temple with his free hand, blowing air out through his teeth. He let himself relax, though his thighs still shook a little.

A second later, his breath left him again, and his eyes popped open.

When Pete had looked up at him from the stool, all smiles and sparkling eyes, those same eyes had been completely black.

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the lack of action in this chapter, i hate filler chapters as well but yknow
> 
> also if this chapter had a title, it'd just be 'patrick stump panics in gay'

Patrick had never had to call a meeting about a band member before. He’d never even thought he’d  _have_ a band, never mind have an issue with wanting to fuck one- or all - of its other members.

Obviously, he couldn’t call a meeting with Pete or Joe. It wasn’t as if they wouldn’t have accepted, neither of them were inconsiderate, but he’d already had explicitly sexual interactions with both of them. Confrontation made him nervous enough without bringing that sort of thing into it. That left him with two options. Either he could seek outside assistance, which seemed like a huge breach of intra-band privacy, or talk to Andy. Patrick chose the latter.

He grabbed Andy by the sleeve after one of their shows, tugging him off into a dingy corner backstage. “Hey, do you wanna go get a drink or something, man? I gotta talk to you.” Andy blinked, giving him a very weird look.

“Um, sure. I don’t mind coming with you, but I don’t drink, ‘Trick.” Patrick had been so jittery that he’d forgotten a fact he’d known about for years. Andy’s expression suddenly made sense. Patrick shook his head, flushing in embarrassment.

“Sorry. I forgot.” Andy frowned. Their drummer set a hand on his arm, looking concerned.

“It’s cool. I’d go with you anyway, but you look really nervous, man. I’m not sure adding alcohol is a good idea.” he advised carefully as he watched Patrick. He didn’t want to overstep and tell Patrick what to do, but felt like he had to say something. “How about we just take a walk? There’s a nice fountain with a bench a couple blocks away. We passed it when we got gas.” Patrick nodded, extremely grateful.

“Yeah, that sounds better. Could you go tell Pete and Joe that we’re going? We can get a cab back.” Andy looked a bit uncomfortable. He’d noticed that Patrick had been avoiding the other two, as had the people in question. Still, he didn’t argue.

“Sure. Be right back.” Patrick watched as Andy wandered off, rounding a corner and disappearing further backstage. He stayed where he was, feeling his stomach try to tie itself in knots. Andy returned within a few minutes.

“Okay, we’re set. I told Joe they could go ahead and take the van back. He told me Pete was… busy.” Andy tried to be tactful. Patrick scowled before he was able to stop himself.

“Yeah, I bet he was.” he grumbled, glaring at the wall for a moment. Patrick no longer knew if he was irritated because of how often Pete sneaked off to have sex or jealous because he wasn’t involved. He was beginning to realize he’d been jealous from the beginning.

Andy noticed Patrick’s irritation, but decided not to comment. He just led the way until they reached one of the side exits, opening the door only a sliver at first to check for fans outside. Normally, socializing with them for a few minutes would have been fine, but Andy got the feeling Patrick wasn’t in the mood. Luckily for them, there weren’t many people outside. Those present were mercifully busy, clustered around a figure Andy recognized as the vocalist from the band that had played after them. The pair were able to sneak out behind the assorted vans and tour buses, Andy starting to lead Patrick west.

Neither of them spoke until they reached the fountain. Patrick sat down on the bench beside it with a stressed little sigh. After a moment, Andy sat down beside him. “…So, what’s up? We’ve never had a serious talk like this before.” He had a feeling he knew what Patrick was about to bring up. Patrick rubbed his temples, stomach plummeting at the prompting. He suddenly wished they’d gone with the alcohol idea after all.

“I, uh… it’s not a problem with you or anything. I just need some advice.” he started. Andy didn’t react much.

“Let me guess, it involves Joe and Pete.” He hesitated for a second before briefly rubbing Patrick’s shoulder, figuring some comfort wouldn’t go amiss. Patrick didn’t seem surprised, either, just laughed a little bitterly.

“Yeah. What gave it away?” he mumbled, staring down at the cement. Andy hummed in response. He knew it was probably a rhetorical question, but answering it might get Patrick to open up a little more.

“First, you sounded really bitter when you were talking about Pete earlier. I figure if you were just mad that he leaves doors unlocked, you wouldn’t have cared if it wasn’t affecting you right then.” he answered with a shrug, leaning back against the bench. “And you’ve been avoiding them ever since Brooklyn.” Patrick swore under his breath.

“…Shit. Didn’t think it was that obvious.” Andy laughed, a sympathetic sort of noise. He wrapped an arm around Patrick, tugging him against his side. Patrick let out a frustrated huff, resting his head on Andy’s shoulder. The drummer stroked his hair.

“You, um… Patrick, I don’t wanna kick you while you’re down, but if you thought you were being subtle, you really need some lessons.” he chided gently. Patrick looked up at him, raising an eyebrow.

“That bad?” he asked, almost shy. Andy laughed again, a high giggle. The familiar sound helped calm Patrick down a little.

“Joe asked you this morning if you wanted some of his chips.  You freaked out and said that you weren’t eating chips anymore because you’d had a horrible accident with them.” Patrick groaned.

“Now that you say it like that, it sounds stupid.” Andy grinned, but kept petting his hair, providing at least some comfort.

“It’s okay. If it helps, it wasn’t super obvious why you were avoiding them. I didn’t figure it out until Joe told me.” Patrick met his eyes again, startled for the first time.

“He did? Oh… oh, fuck. Can’t imagine that was a good conversation.” Seeing that Patrick was already starting to stress himself out, Andy used his free hand to gently tap his friend’s arm. Patrick managed to wind back down, exhaling heavily. “Okay. Um, what’d he say? If I can ask.”

“It involves you, so yeah, that’s fine. Basically, he told me that he walked in on you jerking off. And that you were doing that to Pete getting fucked. Also mentioned that you two kissed.” Andy didn’t sugarcoat his words. After all, they were far beyond the point of pretending that Pete had any subtlety, either. Patrick blinked, having expected more descriptors than that.

“That’s… that’s it? Nothing about how it was awful or anything?” Patrick’s self-esteem was impressively bad. When the incident had occurred, he’d realized that Joe and Pete had both hit on him, and it’d made him feel sexy; he wouldn’t have had to restrain himself from going after Joe and literally begging to suck his dick if the encounter hadn’t inspired some confidence. However, as soon as he’d shaken off the afterglow of his orgasm, he’d started doubting himself again. It’d gotten to the point where he’d convinced himself that he was projecting onto Pete and that Joe had only kissed him out of pity. Andy grimaced.

“Um. No. Actually the exact opposite of that, if you can believe it.” Patrick’s eyebrows went up. Andy felt his heart hurt a little bit in response. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that Patrick couldn’t really fathom people finding him attractive. He wanted to help fix that, but knew it wasn’t the time. “He said that it was really hot seeing you like that. And that he liked your kiss.” Patrick’s lips twitched upwards, just for a second. Andy smiled.

“Hot? Really?” Patrick almost let a full smile cross his face, but not quite. “He… doesn’t think I’m sick for- y’know. To Pete?” Andy outright snorted.

“Patrick. Do you know how many times he’s done the same fucking thing?” he countered, shaking his head. “No, he didn’t think you were gross. Said he was surprised you were admitting it to yourself, but that was all.” Patrick blushed faintly.

“What about you?” The question came out of nowhere, and Andy turned, obviously confused. Patrick balked a little bit. “I mean, have you… have you jerked off to Pete too?” Andy shifted, now a little self-conscious, but answered honestly.

“I’ve never actually walked in on him before, but I’ve heard him.” he replied slowly. Patrick watched his face.

“…So that’s a yes.” Andy ducked his head in response. Patrick grinned, shoulders straightening a little bit. “Fuck, okay. That’s, um. It’s a little better knowing that it’s not just me, I guess.” Andy was suddenly very glad he’d confessed. The dynamic of a band was a fickle thing- he could imagine how nervous Patrick must have been thinking he was the only one causing ripples in it. Andy had had the privilege of at least knowing that Joe shared his desire for Pete (both Pete and Patrick, really, but he wasn’t about to tell Patrick that) when he’d come to terms with it himself.

“Yeah, no. Definitely not just you.” he reassured Patrick, starting to stroke his hair again. Patrick perked up a little bit. “So what part did you need advice on? I want to help, if I can.” Patrick went quiet for a minute.

“I guess I just… wanna know if I should tell Pete? I’ve been thinking about it a lot, but I haven’t been able to figure out what to do.” Patrick murmured, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. Andy waited for him to go on, but that was all.

“Well… what were you thinking of telling him, exactly?” The question seemed to fluster poor Patrick even more.

“I- I dunno. I didn’t really get that far.” Andy could see that he had his work cut out for him. Luckily, he had a lot of patience. Besides, he really did want to help.

“You should start by figuring out what you’re feeling for him, I think. If it’s just a sex thing, I’d say that’s less something you have to _tell_ him and more something you can just kind of start up. Is that what it is?” Patrick fell silent, gaze dropping back down to his lap, suddenly restless again. Andy’s eyes softened. Actual feelings were a little harder. “…I get it. In that case, um… I wish I could help more, but I’m not sure what to do. He’s really affectionate with you, but I’ve not really seen him around other people long enough to know if he’s just like that with everyone.” Come to think of it, that didn’t just apply to Patrick. Pete was very attentive to all three of them. Of course, the bassist had other friends, but Andy hadn’t noticed if he was quite as clingy with them. Maybe Pete was just a lovey guy. He wished he could tell Patrick something a little more useful, but Patrick didn’t seem upset.

“Yeah. I wish I had some comparison.” He ran a hand through his own hair, briefly touching Andy’s. “I think it’s probably just me making things up. I mean, he acts that way with you guys too.” Andy didn’t shoot him down, though.

“I wouldn’t rule anything out, man. Just think it over for a while. Once you know what you wanna do, I’ll be happy to help you.” he said encouragingly. Patrick let out a sigh of relief, seeming much more relaxed than he’d been at the beginning of their talk.

“…Yeah. I’ll do some thinking and let you know. Thanks, Andy.” Andy smiled. If he’d helped cheer Patrick up, that was good enough for him. He stretched out on the bench, leaning against him casually.

“You’re welcome. Now, do me a favor, can you stop avoiding Pete and Joe now? I know Joe tries to act cool, but he’s definitely noticed. And I’m expecting Pete to start whining about it any day now.” Patrick laughed sheepishly.

“Yeah, I’ll stop. I feel bad about it… I think I’ll just say I’ve been feeling weird for a couple of days.” Andy made a face.

“Um, I think the chances that both of them haven’t already figured out why you’re avoiding them are next to none, so I wouldn’t bother with an excuse. It’ll be fine, I swear. If you act normal, so will they.” For once, Patrick couldn’t argue. Andy was channeling all of his confidence to console Patrick, and it was working.

“Alright, I’ll trust you on that. Oh, uh- I don’t wanna be a pain or anything, but should I do some thinking about what to tell Joe, too? I mean, we did kiss, but I don’t know what that was all about. And I think I like Pete, so that’s a problem.” Before Andy could answer, Patrick turned a bewildered expression on him. “Wait a minute. How did you even know what all happened, anyway? I mean, I’m not mad at him for telling you or anything. But I kinda thought Joe kept his mouth shut about most things.” Andy seemed unfazed.

“Usually, yeah. But he said he figured he should tell me that he kissed someone else.” he answered simply. Patrick looked no less lost.

“Someone else? What do you mean?” Andy just looked at him, unsure if the question was serious or not. Patrick read his face and thought a little harder about the words. _Someone else_. Why would that be relevant to… “Oh. Oh, shit, are you guys dating?” Realization dawned on Andy, then. Patrick really hadn’t known.

“Oh. Yeah, I just assumed you’d figured it out, I’m sorry.” Patrick felt anxiety start to build again. He shook his head slowly, suddenly feeling extremely guilty.

“No, I hadn’t. I’m kinda oblivious.” His chuckle was distinctly nervous. Andy noticed immediately, brows furrowing in confusion. He could safely assume that the reaction wasn’t due to homophobia, considering that Patrick had just openly discussed jerking off to one of their bandmates and kissing another one.

“It’s okay. It’s not like we formally announced it or anything.” he replied, watching Patrick out of the corner of his eye. Patrick seemed to collect himself before forcing a smile. The gesture was convincing on its own, but Patrick’s shoulders remained very stiff. The relaxed air around him that had been present mere seconds before disappeared. Andy had no clue why, but he wanted to fix it. He cleared his throat awkwardly a second later. “Hey, ‘Trick, are you okay? You look a little… I don’t know.” Patrick shrugged it off, maintaining the fake smile. It was weakening by the second, though.

“Yeah, I’m good. I’m happy for you guys.” There was a long pause.

“…Okay.” Andy replied slowly, shifting awkwardly on the bench. He didn’t understand what he’d said wrong, but he felt bad regardless. “Um, did you still wanna talk about Joe? I can probably help you a little more with him than with Pete, I know him pretty well.” Patrick cleared his throat as well, shaking his head again.

“I think I’m okay, but thanks.” he said politely, rising from the bench. “You wanna grab a cab? They’re probably waiting for us.” Andy sighed softly, realizing there was no point in pressing him further.

“Yeah, that sounds good. I’ll pay.” he said gently. Patrick nodded, shoving his hands in his pockets, eyes fixed on the ground.

The ride back was a silent one. Andy expected Patrick to speak once they got back to the hotel, figuring he was just in a bad mood from the cold. His heart sank when Patrick didn’t say anything, just slipping into the bathroom once they’d walked in the room the four were sharing. A second later, the shower turned on. Pete wasn’t in the room, but Joe was, and he watched quizzically from the bed as his boyfriend wilted. “…Baby? What’s wrong?” Andy came over to him, wordlessly slipping onto the bed beside him. As soon as they were beside each other, he curled around him needily.

“I don’t even know. I really don’t.” Andy whispered, pressing his face to Joe’s neck. Joe didn’t question Joe didn’t question him further, just kissed Andy’s cheek gently, starting to stroke his hair.

In the shower, Patrick pressed his face to his hands. He felt like the sleaziest person alive. He couldn’t think past how he’d asked Andy how to hit on Joe, Andy’s own fucking boyfriend. Never mind that Andy hadn’t seemed angry- he knew the mild-mannered drummer had just been trying to spare his feelings.

Both men ended their nights feeling awful for different reasons. Patrick bit his tongue hard, rolling over so that his back was to the other two, burying his face in the pillow.

He needed to shut up about his feelings, or he was going to ruin the best thing he’d ever had.


End file.
